For The Love of Inanimate Objects
by xx.just.a.contradiction.xx
Summary: Just a collection of fics I've written about the OliverxKatie ship. Or the WoodxBell ship. don't get it? i don't blame you.
1. Undyingly, Enternally, In All Insanity

_A/N: I've been writing alot of little (ie. less than 500 word) fics lately about Katie and Oliver... so, without wanting to take up all of the space FanFiction has, I've decided to start a collection of (I suppose you could call them) vignettes about Katie and Oliver._

_Oh, and if you don't get the meaning behing the Collection title "For The Love of Inanimate Objects", then i completely understand. It's pretty lame. _

_Inanimate objects.  
Bell... Wood..._

_Yeah, i told you it was lame._

* * *

**Undyingly, Enternally, In All Insanity.**

'Hey Kates, you know what?'

'What, Oliver?'

'I think I'm going insane.'

'And what makes you think that?'

'I dunno… everything.'

'If you want my opinion on this topic, you're going to have to be more specific.'

'Oh, right. Well, for starters, I can't sleep at night…'

'Mmm.'

'And I have no appetite…'

'Yeah.'

'And I can't stop re-thinking certain parts of my day, which for some odd reason, seem to include conversation or interaction with the same girl…'

'Ah.'

'And Fred and George keep singing that muggle song every time I walk past them, you know that love song? From that movie about a boat? By whatsername… umm… Irene Leon?'

'I think you'll find you mean "Celine Dion".'

'That's the one!'

'Right.'

'So, what's the verdict? Am I going insane?'

'No.'

'Really!? Oh, thank Merlin for that.'

'You're not going insane, Oliver, because you're _already_ insane.'

'Oh. That would be a problem.'

'Mmhmm.'

'What kind of insane am I? Dangerous? Violent? Silently Deadly? Um, erm, Luna Lovegood?'

'All of the above and more.'

'Oh no.'

'Oliver.'

'Yes Katie?'

'You're in love.'

'Wait, you can't change the subject now!'

'I'm not.'

'Yes you are! We were talking about me going insane and then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, you tell me I'm in love!'

'Oliver. You're insane _because_ you're in love.'

'Oh. That would explain a lot.'

'I'm guessing it would.'

'So what do I do now?'

'Tell her, perhaps?'

'But I don't know if she likes me back!'

'Ask her.'

'That'd make sense, I suppose.'

'Logic, Oliver. Get some.'

'Will do, just as soon as I confess my undying love for the girl of my insanity.'

'Great, good luck with that. I'll leave you to it.'

'Wait!'

'Oliver, I know I'm far too lenient with you when it comes to these kinds of things… but there are some things you have to independently, albeit by _yourself_. And confessions of undying love are one of them.'

'But… how am I supposed to confess to her if she won't sit still long enough to listen?'

'I dunno… beg. Put a full body-bind jinx on h – oh. wait. No. hang on.'

'Sometimes, Katie love, you're thicker than I am.'

'So, you love me then?'

'Yep. Undyingl_y_ for eternit_y_, in all of my insanit_y_.'

'That's a lot of _"-y's"_.'

'It's a lot of love.'

'Mmm.'

'So, do I get to ask you now?'

'You don't need to.'

'But, I don't know i- '

'Oliver, would I have suffered through that entire conversation if I didn't love you?'

'No… I suppose not.'

'It's time, I think, for you to get some logic.'

'Amen to that.'

'And Oliver? There's no way in hell that I am thicker than you.'

'Oh yeah? And how do you know?'

'Because, my dear Captain, no one is thicker than you.'

'Oi!'

'You love it.'

* * *

_Argh, my alerts -still- aren't working!  
i won't know if you've reviewed, replied, PM'd me or otherwise.. it's ridiculous.  
If anybody is having the same problem, please, please, i beg of you, let me know by emailing me at Please!_

_i tried emailing the support thing, but i don't know if they can help or they've replied, because i can't get any mail from Fanfiction at all. argh..._

_But on a lighter note, thanks for reading. please review.  
i will get it. eventually._

_Ash xx_


	2. Things of A Second Nature

**II****

* * *

**

Things of A Second Nature.

'_You're so far away.  
So c'mon show me how.  
'Cause I mean this more than words can ever say.'_

* * *

Katie would like to think that after eighteen years of living in one another's pockets; that she and Oliver would be able to get along.

But sadly, it seems she's mistaken.

Again.

She hates being wrong.

* * *

And Oliver likes to think that after eighteen years of watching her grow up into the beautiful thing sitting beside him, that he might be able to tell Katie that he loves her.

But sadly, it seems he's also mistaken.

Again.

He hates being wrong.

* * *

The thing about young Mr. and Mrs. Wood is not that they don't love each other.  
Oh no, it's not that at all.

The thing about them is that they're too proud. And too stubborn. And too very much alike to ever take each other seriously.

Once upon a time, that sort of thing was cute… it was the very sort of thing that convinced their friends and family that marriage was the natural path for them. But now, amongst the pressures and dangers of a changing world, it's the sort of thing that tears them apart.

Once upon a time, Mr. and Mrs. Wood were happy.

But sadly, now they are not.

They hate being wrong.

* * *

'_Katie, I cannot fucking believe it.' _

_Oliver whispers to his new wife as they lie naked beneath the sheets of their Egyptian cotton sheets; she in his strong arms, her eyes closed peacefully, and he content to lie there forever._

'_Believe what, Ol?'_

_She murmurs sleepily, her dark hair dishevelled and pulling out of its elaborate wedding-day knot._

'_That we're married… that we're going to be together forever… that I'm going to spend the rest of my life with someone as gorgeous as you…'_

_He's grinning as he continues to whisper, his voice low and deep, a rumbling in his chest that makes her smile with uncontained happiness. She never thought it was possible to be this happy._

'_We're never going to spend evenings sulking by the fire, wishing that we could spit out the words "I love you" anymore… that's the thing I'm most grateful for.'_

_She snuggles tighter into his embrace, content to believe that they'll be this ecstatic forever._

* * *

'If only everything could be that simple.' Katie says to herself quietly, the memory of that first night of wedded bliss tricking her eyes into a single tear for each cheek.

Oliver looks up from his newspaper, his dusting of five o'clock shadow making him appear so much older than the twenty-one years that is he is. 'Simple? Oh, life is _never_ simple.'

Katie just nods. She knows that all too well.

Life is never simple when you can't tell your husband that you love him, even though you know you should… everyday… in case you never see him again.

Life is never simple when you can't tear him away from his firewhisky of an evening.

Life is never simple when you can't understand why, suddenly, you're not happy anymore… for days and days at a time.

* * *

Oliver notices that pair of tears… he notices more than his young wife thinks he does.  
But what he chooses to do with that extra observation makes him ashamed to call himself her husband. He does nothing, because that is what Oliver does.

He doesn't know what to do, so he does nothing at all.

And for doing nothing, he thinks nothing of himself.

Hence the evening addiction to firewhisky.

* * *

Katie is tired of being unhappy, and she's tired of being wrong.  
She is tired of watching her reflection mutter words back to her, that she should be saying to someone else, and should be hearing from someone else.  
And most of all, Katie Ann Wood, wife of Oliver Tobias Wood, is tired of being too stubborn to make her marriage work the way she planned.

* * *

Oliver is tired of seeing her unhappy, tired of being unhappy himself.  
He is tired of pacing his nights away in front of a dying fire, practising the words that should come second nature to his husbandly mouth.  
And most of all, Oliver Tobias Wood, husband of Katie Ann Wood, is tired of being too proud to admit that his marriage isn't working out the way he planned.

* * *

Oh, and how they planned.

But nothing is ever simple.

And words are sometimes just too hard to say… even when they should be second nature.

'_Cause I mean this more than words can ever say._

* * *

_**A/N: lyrics used 'Give 'Em Hell Kid' - My Chemical Romance.**_

hey there!

sorry if this was a bit confusing... for some reason, FFn won't let me use double-spacing for where I wanted the breaks, so i had to use lines instead... and I know this wasn't my usual kind of writing... it's a bit dark and depressing.. but I was kind of getting sick of being able to write angst for every other pairing known to man, but always writing happy, fluffy stuff for Katie and Oliver. So, thus, this was born.

i'm not sure whether I like it or not, but hey, it's part of a collection that will hopefully be quite large, so you can just skip over that and forget about it, lol.

Let me know what you think though, coz that will guide me on whether to keep writing angst every now and then or just sticking to fluff for these two lovebirds.

Ash xx


	3. A Stain That Never Comes Off

**III****

* * *

**

A Stain That Never Comes Off.

'_Another knife in my hands  
A stain that never comes off the sheets  
Clean me off  
I'm so dirty babe  
The kind of dirty where the water never cleans off the clothes…'  
_

Oliver feels dirty.

He feels dirty, and it's not because of some recent sexual encounter.  
He wishes…

'Ol? Oliver, honey, what is it?'

Katie's at his side, leaning over him to pick up the uneaten dinner he's left on the coffee table. He can't eat.

'What? Oh, nothing Kates, I'm fine… just not hungry.'

He's fine.  
He's one-hundred-percent fucking fine.  
He promises.

'Oliver? Tell me what's wrong.'

She's back again, snuggling next to him on the sofa, his post-war territory.  
He eats, sleeps and lives on that sofa.

'There's nothing wrong with me, I'm fine.'

He's fine.  
He promises.

'Oliver…'

She doesn't believe him.  
He doesn't blame her.  
Because he knows he's not fine. He's nowhere near fine.

And it's all because he feels dirty.

And he feels dirty because… because… Oh, he can't even admit it to himself most days… he feels dirty because he _killed_.

'Ol, is this some kind of punishment for me?'

God no.  
Katie is the one person on earth that he doesn't hate at the moment… and that's because she's his wife, his soul and the very reason he isn't dead himself. He fought for her, and though it'd kill him to do so, he'd fight for her again.

'Oliver, please. _Talk to me._'

He can't.  
He won't.  
He couldn't open his mouth and let the words pour out, even if he tried.  
There are no words to express the dirtiness he feels… no words to express the extreme filthiness and darkness that he sees mar his reflection when he looks in the mirror.

'Katie, I'm _fine._'

Yeah, that's laughable.  
And she knows it.

'Fine. If you're not going to talk to me, I'll leave you alone on your stupid fucking couch then. I'll salute you from the doorway, _soldier_.'

It's always been a joke of theirs.  
The solider thing.  
That he was marching off to some kind of muggle war, to fight for her.  
That was what he did. Except muggle wars never seemed real to him.  
This war was. It was too real.

'Katie…'

He sighs.  
He does that a lot these days.  
He doesn't want her to leave… she's so warm.  
And he is so _cold_.

'Oliver, you _have_ to talk to me!'

But what to say?  
How to explain the blood of fathers, sons and husbands?  
The blood of mothers, daughters and wives?  
The blood on his hands?  
The blood that _drips _from his hands as he dives to and fro, dodging every curse and hex that comes his way, just so he can live and come home to Katie.

'Katie, I repeat, I am _fine._'

And come home to Katie he did.  
But some days he wishes he hadn't.  
Because he can't make her happy anymore.

How to tell her _that?_

'Fine!? Oh my Fu- you know what? _FINE!_'

There's a slam of the door.  
She's gone. And he doubts very much she's coming back.

The thought occurs to him, that perhaps by coming back to her, telling her he's fine, just to protect her from the blood that still trickles from his hands to the floor… that perhaps he's just driven her away anyway. Whether he fought for her or not.

He's not fine.  
And now he's just killed any hope he had of ever being fine again.

'_I tried.'

* * *

_

A/N: lyrics used... 'I Never Told You What I Do For A Living' - My Chemical Romance.

Hi again...

Okay, okay.. so before you mob me and kill me.  
I'm sorry.

I think that listening to MCR is bad for my health.  
It gives my muse some kind of morbid edge.

The apology for the lack of fluff is much the same as the previous chapter's.  
I got a bit sick of fluff, so morbid post-war miseries is what you got. sorry.

xx

PS. and if you want to know where all the soldier inspiration came from, I suggest you check out 'The Bronze Horseman' by Paullina Simons... the best book I've read in ages. It's part one of a trilogy (I've read all three, they're amazing). It's good stuff.


	4. Brave Like Soldiers

**IV

* * *

**

**Brave Like Soldiers.**

_We were drawn from the weeds  
We were brave like soldiers  
Falling down under the pale moonlight._

Standing in the doorway of Grimmauld Place that Christmas Eve, Katie remembers, was like standing in the middle of a freeway with your eyes closed. It was a constant blur of moving figures, rushing past as you stood there, pretending that time was frozen – not for too long, but just enough for you to catch your breath and dive into the traffic.

It was terrifying.

But everything is in times of war.

As she stood there, eyes closed in terrorized anticipation of the coming days, she could hear the muddled sound of her friends' voices, each one different, but each one mingling with the other, a frenzied hum that made her sick to her stomach with fear. How could she bear to lose any single one of them? They were what made her who she was and without just one of them, she wouldn't be Katie Anne Bell anymore… she would be someone else.

One voice stood out amongst the din, however, and that was the low, smooth rumbling of Oliver's Scottish brogue, and it came tumbling down upon her in a way that made her feel as if she could drown at that moment and just be glad it was him she would be drowning in. It confused her, this intense feeling of almost suicidal love, but it was present nevertheless. And she had to accept it.

She had to accept a lot of things nowadays, now that she was a part of the Order.

A regular solider marching off to war.

&&&&&&&

Fighting in his first major battle against the Death Eaters, Oliver remembers – and constantly tries to forget – was the single most frightening experience of his tender twenty year-old life. As he dived to and fro, dodging hexes and curses with the reflexes the Quidditch Gods had, fortunately, blessed him with, his dark eyes remained solely focused on the small but strong figure of one Katie Bell, standing frozen in the middle of the din, her own blue eyes glazed over with panic.

Deciding that if his life ended today, it might as well be for the sake of the crazy little brunette, Oliver, in a split second of complete peace that seemed to last forever, sprinted forwards towards her and was promptly sent reeling into her as a curse hit him in the side, making him yelp with pain. They collided and hit the ground with a sickening crack, Katie underneath Oliver, who screamed sharply as her head hit the cement violently. They both lay there, silent, before Oliver scrambled off her and dragging himself across the ground pitifully, laid beside her and rolled her over onto her back.

He screamed again. But this time, he didn't stop.

Pulling her into his arms, her profusely bleeding head in the crook of his arm, he clung to her tightly, desperately as he continued to scream. He wanted to tell her… he wanted to tell her that he loved her… and he wanted her to be awake to hear it. But she was so still and growing so cold.

_You were holding to me  
Like a someone broken  
And I couldn't tell you but I'm telling you now._

He whispered hoarsely into her bloodstained ear, croakily and unnaturally.  
'Kates? Kates… I love you.'

And then everything went black.

&&&&&&&

Waking up, the first thing Katie saw were a pair of unnaturally frightened chocolate coloured eyes, glimmering with unshed tears and rimmed with red from tears that had already been unleashed.

Blinking groggily, she reached out with shaky fingertips, to wipe away the stray tear that ran glistening down his cheek, in a tender motion that sent him into body wracking sobs so violent he had to turn away.

Frowning at this unexpected display of emotion, she called to him weakly, holding her aching arms out to him for him to crawl into, a reversal of a role that for so long, had been one sided… her slender arms wrapped around his lean, muscular frame as he cried in agony at what could have been.

_Just let me hold you while you're falling apart  
Just let me hold you and we'll both fall down_

'Don't ever leave me.'

A simple, four word sentence, muttered harshly amongst his unnatural sobs, but it reverberated around the otherwise empty white room, echoing cruelly back at them as they cried in unison.

'I love you Oliver.'

Another four word sentence, spoken quietly, shakily, in reply, loud in the pristine space, but spoken with such fierce sincerity that it rang clear and obvious.

'I've always loved you… before Hogwarts, before the Order, before everything…'

A longer sentence, another reply, honest and sweet; pushed out of him as if it had hurt to keep it inside.

'We always loved each other, Ol… it's always been the same.'

They both sat up, weary and exhausted, looking at each other with red-rimmed eyes in a tender gesture of unmeasureable affection. And then, in one swift movement and in complete unison, they clung to each other again, their tears falling like rain upon each other, their lips salty and wet, colliding hungrily, seeking the truth they'd spent so many years hiding.

_Fall on me  
Tell me everything you want me to be  
Forever with you forever in me  
Ever the same_

&&&&&&&

Their wedding was simple, bittersweet… a perfect ceremony for a simple, bittersweet couple.

The guests sat in rows of chairs lined across the jade turf of the Hogwarts grounds, its grass still slightly perfumed with the scent of broom polish, and each person smiled as the brunette pair stood before them, their scars clear for all to see, but their healing just as clear.

There were gaps where people were supposed to be… an empty chair next to Ginny, where Harry Potter should have been, smiling shyly as he kissed her hand gently; a space next to Tonks where Remus Lupin should have sat, smiling with pride; two empty places where Percy and George Weasley would have been, bickering quietly with one another; and a gap next to Angelina where Alicia Spinnet should have been, shedding a tear for her friend and laughing as her dark-skinned friend wolf-whistled the new couple.

Katie felt a tear slide down her cheek as the wind swept her newly curled masses of hair across her face, and smiled a small smile as her husband cupped her right cheek in his large hand with a tenderness he had learnt to acquire in the wake of having thought he'd lost her.

_We would stand in the wind  
We were free like water  
Flowing down  
Under the warmth of the sun_

'I love you Mrs. Katie Wood.'

A smile, a laugh and a tear were issued in response to this simple, bittersweet statement.

'Don't ever leave me, Mr. Oliver Wood.'

He leant down and kissed her sweetly upon her lips, the small scar of their first and only battle strange but seemingly a part of her, playing upon his mouth.

_Forever with you  
Forever in me  
Ever the same_

&&&&&&&

* * *

A/N: lyrics used 'Ever The Same' by Rob Thomas.

Greetings.

Okay, so I think I should change the summary for this, as these stories are all above 500 words i think... I would have just posted this one on its own, but I keep re-reading it and to me it feels a bit awkward, as though it doesn't quite flow. This could just be because I haven't used all the lyrics of the song like I normally do, but honestly, its a long song and I didnt have enough story for the lyrics. I do love this song with an absolute passion though, its one of my alltime favourites. so beautiful.

Anyway, first off, apologies for being slack with replies and beta-ing... my computer has decided to become a complete idiot and has yet to be completely fixed after something like three or four weeks of not working. So i am computer-less, basically, except when i can scab time on my mum's. i am so sorry...

Also, a friend of mine and her older sister were involved in a nasty car accident on Thursday night and were both taken to hospital in a critical condition. Thankfully, my friend is going to be okay as far as they know, but her sister passed away. And although I didn't know her very well, its affected me really badly, so I've been a little messed up lately, thus why this story probably doesn't flow very well. But anyway, you really don't need to know about my personal crises, just, if you do that type of thing, please pray for the family... and for my school. we're a close-knit community and its been horrible the last few days.

Um, not much else, except this story is dedicated to a few people, most of which you probably won't know, but anyway...

_Giddy - for reading my email rants and being a generally amazing friend. I love you. Thank you._

_Emma & Amy - R.I.P Amy, I know you're in a better place... Emma, you're going to get through this honey, I know you are. Stay strong beautiful. God is looking after Amy now and we'll see her soon. _

_Toby - I know you hate me acting so positive and saying that everything's going to be okay, but you know that's just how i cope. i have to believe honey, and I'm sorry if that messes you up. You **are** strong, and you know it, somewhere deep down, you know it and believe it as much as I do. She's stronger than you think, she will get through it. _

_Josh & all my other friends - don't ever leave me. don't ever leave me to live the way that Emma will have to now without Amy . Please. I love you all so much._

Thank you guys, your prayers for the Learoyd girls would be so appreciated.

Love always,  
Ash xx


	5. Those Sweet Words

**V.

* * *

**

**Those Sweet Words.**

"_What did you say  
I know I saw you saying it  
My ears won't stop ringing  
Long enough to hear  
Those sweet words  
And your simple melody…"

* * *

_

_Katie's thoughts and/or narration are in italics.

* * *

_

_This is a simple story._

_I would just like to make that clear to all you mystery buffs, you know who you are, those people who like to sit down to a book and get up again thoroughly confused, pondering on how the hero managed to crack a safe with just a toenail clipper… _

_No, this is a simple story and a simple story it shall remain.  
So please don't read into it too much and please, **please** don't make it more complicated than it is… because really? It isn't complicated at all._

_It's simple for a reason… a reason that should be apparent once you've read it.  
And if not? Well, I'll explain at the end._

_Now, this simple story starts with a girl.  
And that girl is sitting at a table, unsuspecting and innocent as a newborn baby, – Fred, if you snigger one more time I will confiscate your wand and shove it where the sun doesn't shine – quietly doing her homework – no Fred, I don't mean in a cave – when two tall and lanky, ginger-haired twins – no George, I will not write "two tall and devilishly handsome twins with thick, wavy locks of auburn hair" – decide to pull a prank – why not? Because for starters it would be **lying** – on – Oh, for Merlin's sake! Just shut up! I'm sorry readers… I'll just leave it to the narrator. FRED AND GEORGE! I WARN YOU NOW, IF I CATCH YOU YOU'LL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN!_

* * *

Oliver had a bit of a dilemma on his hands. 

Try as he might, he just couldn't seem to find the right words to express his undying love for a certain girl, to the certain girl he undying loved.

Oliver, being quite a monosyllabic kind of person by nature, found most confessions difficult, whether they were admitting to eating the last cookie in the cookie jar or revealing that it was indeed, he who accidentally-on-purpose dropped Aunt Mildred's cranky, ancient old cat from the third storey balcony. And this confession was no different. In fact, it was wholly more difficult.

The fact that the certain girl who was unknowingly the subject of an impending confession, was in fact, his best friend, did not add much to the situation, so overall, Oliver was, metaphorically speaking, in a bit of a pickle.

Unwittingly, unknowingly and otherwise, said certain girl was currently pondering the merits of Potions homework versus detention with Snape, and chewing on the end of a Sugar Quill, as was her Sunday afternoon practice – mainly ensuing from the fact she was one of those people who left _everything_ until the last minute.

For the last three quarters of an hour, she'd been sitting there, glaring at her blank parchment and trying to block out the sounds of one Oliver Wood, as he sat in the lounge chair opposite her in the empty Common Room, muttering to himself about some sort of confession and a stubborn, pig-headed but ultimately amazing girl… commonplace muttering for him, really.

An idea on how to start her essay had just slid into her mind, and the tip of her Sugar Quill had just skimmed the otherwise virgin surface of her parchment, when the Portrait opened and Fred and George bounded in with a lethal looking trumpet-like object.

'Ah, well, if it isn't my favourite Katie-Kates!' cried Fred in his usual exuberant manner, as he and his slightly quieter twin made their way over to her.

'Hey Fred.' Katie greeted him without looking up, desperately wracking her brain for the perfect sentence, that had been at the front of her mind just split seconds before.

'Do I not merit a greeting, then?' pouted George with a rogue grin that betrayed his ulterior, humorous motives.

'Hey George.' she said in the same tone as she had the previous greeting, her brow knitted with confusion and frustration.

'We've got a present for you, Katie my love.' Fred informed her, holding out the peculiar looking trumpet object for her viewing pleasure or otherwise.

'What is it?' Katie asked, bemused, taking the object and nearly dropping it: it was deceptively heavy.

'A music player.' answered George with a smile, the tone of his voice slow and overly mature, as if Katie was a child.

'A music player?' she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

'Yep.' George confirmed, leaning forwards, 'You see, you hold the large end to your ear and press the little red button – you see there – and listen… and then music comes out.'

'I see.' Katie said, skeptical, 'but why does it have to be so big? You do know that muggles have managed to make music players this small?'

She held her hands up about ten centimeters apart to demonstrate this.

'Yes,' said Fred exasperatedly, 'but their sound quality is bloody ridiculous. Our sounds quality is _crystal_ clear.'

'I dunno…' countered Katie, 'they've made pretty good advances…'

'Well, why don't you test it and find out?' Fred suggested, his mouth curving upwards in his trademark grin.

Katie shrugged, and then did possibly the most ridiculously stupid thing she'd ever done in her life… she did what he said.

Holding the peculiar looking gadget to her ear, she pressed the button, and promptly let out a scream almost as loud as the foghorn noise that emitted from the invention… a sound so loud that it scared Oliver to the point of falling out of his lounge chair and landing with a crash on the floor.

'What the bloody hell!?' he swore, rubbing his right elbow, which he had landed on particularly hard.

Sitting up, scowling, he looked around the room, curious as to what had happened.

Fred and George were rolling around on the floor, tears of mirth flowing freely down their cheeks as they laughed hysterically.

And Katie?  
Poor Katie was sitting in the middle of the room with her legs crossed, holding her chest and wheezing as she tried to draw in breath.

One look at her and his stomach leapt.  
Frowning and shaking his head, Oliver cursed again and got to his feet.  
It was time to be a man.  
He was just going to walk over there and tell her.  
He'd confess.

Walking over to her, he sat down in front of her, crossing his own legs, and took both her hands in his. So enraptured in what he was doing, he failed to notice the peculiarly blank but frightened look in Katie's eyes.

Looking her square in the eyes and completely missing anything except his thudding heart, Oliver said the words he'd been waiting for years to say.  
'Katie Ann Bell… you're my best friend in the whole world and you'll always be… but you've got to know that I love you. Not just as a friend, but so much more… and I want to know if maybe, you'd um, you'd consider going to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?'

Blinking, Oliver smiled faintly and waited for her response.  
But it didn't come.

Instead of confessing her own undying love for him, or at least that she only wanted to be friends with him, Katie pulled her hands out of his grip and signaled frantically to him, before replacing them back in his grip and shaking his hands desperately, trying to get him to understand how frightened she was.

And the he realized.

His confession had been laid upon, quite literally, deaf ears.  
Katie hadn't heard a word he'd said because she'd been deafened by the twin's stupid invention.

Oliver let out an almighty groan and pressed her hands, in his own, to his forehead in despair. He wasn't sure if he'd ever summon up the courage again. Why, oh why, had the twins had to have come into the Common Room at that particular time?

He felt a pair of hands shaking and he looked up to see Katie's horror-stricken face.  
Pulling her hands away from him, she waved them about frantically, panicking because she couldn't hear a single sound.

Smiling reassuringly, he gripped her hands again, tight enough to calm her down slightly and mouthed that he would take her to the Hospital Wing. Clambering to their feet, they walked past the twins, who were still laughing hysterically, and out of the Portrait Hole.

One look at Katie and Madam Pomfrey dragged them into the Infirmary, muttering something about irresponsibility and "those bloody Weasley twins".

'She's been deafened by a minor jinx, nothing serious, just badly enough to cause her to panic, is all.' Madam Pomfrey explained to him as she searched through her various pockets, located her wand and muttered the anti-jinx, whereupon Katie immediately relaxed.

'B-but what about the twin's invention?' Oliver asked, confused, as Katie began to giggle.

'That did nothing but scare the hell out of me,' she said with a soft smile, 'the reason I was frightened was because as soon as they realized you'd confessed to me, they cast the jinx on me, pranking you, and I didn't know the counter-jinx, so I got scared… I heard every word you said, they didn't cast it until after…'

Oliver swallowed but felt unable to say anything.

'I'd love to go to Hogsmeade with you next weekend.' She prompted him, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles tenderly.

'Great.' Oliver said hoarsely, coughing in a vain attempt to clear his throat.

'Aw, c'mon,' Katie said with another laugh, 'you have to have something more inventive than that in your little Scottish brain after that beautiful confession you gave me earlier.'

'Quite frankly,' Oliver replied in a rasping voice, 'that's all I've got.'

'Ah well,' Katie said with a shrug, 'one confession was more than enough. I love you, you love me and we're off to Hogsmeade sometime next week. Wow, that rhymed, there you go… I did the inventive bit for you.'

Oliver simply smiled and pressed his lips to hers.

'Out! Out! Get out!'

Startled, they jumped as Madam Pomfrey shooed them out of the Infirmary.

'Her voice is deafening.' remarked Katie with a conspiratorial wink as they walked down the hallway.

'Don't start.' Oliver growled, scowling at her.

'Gee, I'm sorry, what's that you say?'

'Nrgh.'

_

* * *

So, as you can see, it was a simple story. _

_Just a silly little love story about two rather ordinary young kids, their two weird and wonderful friends and rather peculiar foghorn-like invention. _

_And the reason this story is simple, if you haven't already figured it out, is because overcomplicating things blows them out into bigger things that were never really there or didn't have to happen… like holding off confessions until they come at inopportune times… _

_Yes, Fred, I know, if it weren't for you and George, Oliver and I would have had a boring start to our relationship… but we're simple people. The more simple the better._

_Okay, I'll stop rambling._

_So there you have it.  
A simple story about two ordinary people who love nothing better than each other, quiet lives and weird and wonderful friends._

_The End._

_

* * *

_

**A/N: Lyrics used - "Those Sweet Words" by Norah Jones.**

**Dedication.  
**_Just a silly little love story from a silly little girl to a silly little boy.  
With all the love, silly, stupid and otherwise, as it may be,  
Ash x_

haha, well, that was just a silly little thing that i wrote tonight when i was slightly bored.  
it was so random that i thought i might as well post it.

love love. x


	6. Fooling Around

**VI.**

* * *

**Fooling Around.**

'I can't believe you're making me do this, I look _ridiculous_!'

Rolling her eyes, Katie turned with a swish of petticoats to face her whining Scottish counterpart, whose whinging was somewhat muffled by the ancient, corroded suit of armour he was wearing.

'Oh stop it,' she said, trying desperately to contain her laughter, 'you look great, very handsome.'

With a rusty clank, Oliver stomped his right foot irritably.  
'How can you tell if I look handsome or not? You can't bloody _see_ me, can you?'

'Well, I for one, think you look positively smashing.' said a voice from behind them, and with a creak, Oliver turned to see Fred approaching with Angelina, both of whom were clad in black suits and dark sunglasses.

'How come those two don't have to wear a suit of armour?' he asked indignantly, snarling when his visor snapped shut on him, catching him unawares.

'Because they aren't going as Lancelot and Lady Guinevere,' Katie said patiently with the tiniest of sighs, 'as far as I'm aware, the Men In Black didn't wear suits of armour.'

'I hate muggles.' Oliver muttered sourly, scuffing his metal-clad foot across the cement.

'Hey, you agreed to come with me as Lancelot.' Katie reminded him, reaching up to fix the simple tiara she'd placed in her hair, which was out and curling gently.

'Yeah, but you said _nothing_ about a suit of armour,' he retorted, 'Lancelot didn't wear a suit of armour _all_ the time, did he?'

'Well, no,' Katie began, but was cut off by the approach of George and Alicia, who upon seeing Oliver immediately broke out into laughter.

'Yeah, yeah, that's right, laugh it up,' he said bitterly, 'and what are you two supposed to be?'

'Danny and Sandy from Grease.' Alicia replied, her grin growing wider, 'I have to tell you, I was worried about these leather pants until I saw you in that suit of armour.'

Unable to look at Oliver for fear of laughing, Katie turned away, but was forced to look back around when George spoke.

'Oh Kates, I am so proud of you,' said the redheaded twin happily, 'not only did you nick a suit of armour but you managed to get Oliver to wear it… you are officially adopted as my favourite sister.'

'I second that motion.' said Fred, clapping her on the shoulder in a comradely fashion.

Oliver emitted a peculiar noise from within his metallic shell, a sound somewhat like a cross between a snarl and a sigh. 'This is the last time I ever go to a party with you lot.'

He was somewhat distracted towards the end of this sentence, as Cho Chang and two of her friends strutted past, obviously meant to be younger versions of the Charlie's Angels.

'Woah.' said Fred and George in unison as they and Oliver watched the three girls walk away, their jaws dropped open.

With a disgusted snort, Angelina grabbed Fred by the arm and dragged him towards the food table. He feebly protested for a second before catching the look on her face and then decided to meekly follow her without a word.

'George,' said Katie, 'you have your own leather-clad partner; you really don't need to be staring at a scantily-dressed Cho Chang.'

Alicia had just opened her mouth to second this when Professor Mason, the Muggle Studies teacher, walked up to them, looking extremely strange as an eighty year-old attempt at Marilyn Monroe.

'Having fun, I hope?' she asked with a coy wink, her shrivelled face completely unsuited to the flirty look, 'Muggle film culture is fascinating, isn't it?'

She whisked away to terrorise some other students with her costume, leaving George and Oliver thoroughly cured of their trance.

'Eurgh, she sounds like my Dad,' said George, averting his eyes from the horrific sight.

Oliver merely nodded creakily.  
'I rather like my costume now… at least I can pull my visor down every time she walks past so I don't have to look at her.'

Katie laughed before recognising the song playing and positively leaping with excitement. 'You _have_ to come and dance with me!'

'Is that what I think it is?' asked Alicia, the only other one in their midst with a muggle background, and therefore the only one horrified by the song choice, '_Please_ tell me that is not the Titanic theme!'

Katie grinned.  
'Aw, come on… as cheesy as it is, it's a beautiful song.'

Alicia raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

'C'mon Oliver, _please_?' Katie begged, pulling on his arm and therefore causing it to creak noisily.

'Well, I can't exactly dance in this, can I?' he replied, before happening to hear a few bars of the song, 'You have to be joking Kates, this song is horrible!'

'_Please_ Oliver!' she said, ignoring his jibe at the song completely, 'I'll give you another costume if you come and dance with me.'

'Oh, so _now_ you'll give me another one!' he exclaimed, rather more loudly than he intended due to the marvellous acoustics of his costume.

'Yes, okay, I'm terrible,' she said, pulling her wand out, 'you want the other one or not?'

Oliver sighed.  
'Fine.'

Swishing her wand, Katie swapped his costume, and before he had time to see what it was, whisked him away onto the dancefloor.

Breathing clean oxygen for the first time in about an hour, Oliver sucked in the air happily. 'Air, I have air!'

'Now _that_ is a ridiculous costume.' remarked Fred from behind them and Oliver looked down at his costume for the first time.

He was dressed in a multicoloured jumpsuit and a tiered hat from which bells hung, jangling merrily every time he moved his head.

'And what the hell am I supposed to be now?' he demanded angrily.

'Hey, you obviously didn't want to be Lancelot,' Katie replied with a smirk, 'so I made you a jester instead.'

**Fin.**

**

* * *

**

_Well hello there, long time and no writing, huh?_

_I know this one isn't brilliant or anything but I hadn't posted anything in AGES, so I thought, hey, I'll post this..._

_Um, this one shall be dedicated to Giddy coz she finally succumbed to the whining of Kate and myself and got Bebo.  
Oh, and because she dedicated me a story.. and I still owe her an email.  
Which, by the way, I am off to write now. haha._

_Love,  
Ash xx_


	7. Simple Pleasures

**VII.**

* * *

**Simple Pleasures.**

'_Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?  
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on.  
So tell me when you're gonna let me in,  
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin.'_

The wind drifted lazily past him; a cool, gentle whirl that swept the heads off several dandelions that had been swaying softly with the breeze moments before and tossed them into the air, creating a pleasant clash of yellow with the clear blue of the sky. It was spring and he could smell it in the air as he sat in the long, rippling grass, his legs stretched out in front of him and his eyes closed.

It wasn't a rare pleasure these days to have enough time to lie in a field somewhere in rural Scotland for the afternoon, but, to Oliver it was heaven. He'd had enough of London with its bustling traffic and horrendous weather and he was well and truly sick of Glasgow… he was even sick of Quidditch: after all he'd been through, what with the war and losing friends and family, it didn't feel real enough any more. In fact, his whole life was built around a surrealistic world, it wasn't plausible for him to live without fear any more, not after being trapped for so long by a constant struggle to hold on to his sanity. No, it wasn't real.

But this was.

This wasn't fear and it wasn't freedom, it was another thing entirely… it was peace.

For a second or two as he let his body flop back into the lush green rushes, Oliver wished Katie were here to see it all, to feel the peace and utter tranquillity that the untouched field possessed, but then he quickly nudged that away. She would be with George, pleading with him to eat something or say something or do something. Never mind the fact she, herself, was no better, with her jeans practically falling off her and her nightmares keeping him awake til four in the morning as he held her to him. No, Katie wasn't ready for peace yet; she was still fighting a war that she had to win herself: no amount of help he gave her would aid her to victory until she wanted it… and then he would bring her here, but not now.

For now it was just his place, his alone. It would be _his_ sanctuary, his place to cry and to grieve, without anyone else's tears drowning his own out... his place to scream and to shout and to rage at the world…. his place to sing and dance with nobody watching…

It would be _his_ simple pleasure, and he would treasure it and keep for his own until Katie was ready for it, and then he would share it with her, only her.

-x-x-x-

'Oliver, where are we?'  
'Shh… just be quiet and listen to th-'

Pausing mid-sentence, Oliver gazed around in horror, certain there had been some mistake. His lush, green fields peppered with yellow dandelions and pastel-coloured butterflies was gone, and in its stead was a housing estate, obviously built by wizards as it had been made overnight.

'You spend every afternoon in a _housing estate_?'  
'I- it was… I… its gone.'

As Oliver stared helplessly around, his jaw gaping and his brown eyes marred with a hunted look she hadn't seen in them for months, Katie felt the teasing, sceptical expression on her face fade away. Whatever it was that had been here and that had helped him to some sort of contentment with life had been taken away, and it was painful to watch as he took this in.

'I- this is not happening.'

He sank to the ground, collapsing in an orthodox cross-legged position on the driveway of the closest house. Kneeling down beside him, Katie wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to his left temple.

'What was here before, Ol?' 

It took him a while to respond, but when he did she was startled to see tears welling in his eyes, threatening to spill over on to his perpetually stubbled cheeks, always awash with a slight five o'clock shadow.

'It was just th-this field… but it was so beautiful Kates, it was so beautiful. All green and long and untouched with yellow dandelions and butterflies and clear sky. And when it rained the grass would sort of soak it up and then when you laid down in it, it would be cool and – and now it's just... gone.'

Katie could feel her own eyes welling up now, the quiet tenderness in his Scottish brogue so sincere that she instantly realised how much the field had meant to him. It hadn't just been some piece of untouched land, it had been an escape for him and now it was gone.

'Ol, I'm so sorry,' she whispered, moving around so that she had her head tucked between his and his left shoulder, her arms wrapped around him as securely as possible.

'I wanted to show it to you,' he said helplessly, his voice wavering, 'I wanted it to help you like it helped me.'

Katie smiled.  
'Ol, I don't need a field to help me out, I've got you, Oh Captain, My Captain.'

A slight chuckle gurgled in his throat as she used her old nickname for him and he let his head drop so that it rested atop her own.  
'I love you.'

'I love you too, Ol.'

It wasn't fear and it wasn't freedom… it wasn't even peace.

It was just a simple pleasure to sit there with her on that overcast spring day and watch the last patch of dandelions sway with the breeze, a testament to better days and a future as bright as their little yellow petals.

_Is this the place we used to love?  
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?  
Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?  
Somewhere only we know._

* * *

_A/N: lyrics - "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane._

_hey all,  
sorry i havent updated in so damn long... lots happening around town.  
i fell in love with this song after i heard it on Grey's Anatomy one night and was listening to it again today and got inspired for the first time in ages. so voila!  
love love. x_


	8. An Afternoon With Fred & George

**VIII.**

* * *

**An Afternoon With Fred & George.**

To say Oliver was a little annoyed was an understatement.

When he'd woken up four hours too early this morning to the sound of Percy's trumpeting, gargling snoring, he'd decided that he'd too harshly judged the Weasley twins… although their actions and words might not always be the picture of truth, their warnings about their elder brother's snoring had not been even close to a lie. It was horrible. And so, in honour of their having been honest with him, he'd decided that spending the day with his two Beaters might provide some kind of insight into their mischievous lives, thus allowing him to become closer to the rogue fifteen year-olds.

And oh, how his early morning decision had come back to bite him on his Scottish arse.

'Oliver mate, your main problem is that you know _nothing_ about girls,' Fred informed his elder Captain, reaching over to pat his arm comradely, 'and that being the situation, you don't have a girlfriend, and thus, you are uptight and sexually frustrated, _thus_ your unreasonable, Nazi-like tendencies to try and kill us daily on the Quidditch pitch.'

'Oi! I kno-' Oliver tried to defend himself in vain, as George rattled on right over the top of him.

'And we all know you're impossibly in love with the ever-lovely Kit-Kat, which makes it all the more worse, because she's one of the hardest women to figure out … it took Fred here three months to figure out whether she was a pasta or a pizza girl, once upon a time back in third year when he had a bit of a thing for her.'

His dark eyes narrowing, Oliver re-opened his mouth, but was yet again overrun by a Weasley twin.

'_And_ to make matters even _more_ worse,' Fred added with a mournful look in the Scots' direction, 'she's in love with none other than Pretty-Boy Diggory.'

'Eurgh!' George exclaimed before pulling a girly face that his twin mirrored, '"Oh My God, what a man!"'

Pulling his own disgusted face, Oliver couldn't help himself.  
'Do they _really_ say things like that about him?'

'Oh mate, that was just an intro.' Fred assured him with a wrinkle of his freckled nose.

'Do they ever say things like that about… me?' he asked hesitantly, screwing his eyes up in morbid anticipation.

'Well, now that you mention it…' George replied.

'…they actually do,' Fred finished with a mysterious wink.

Wrenching his eyes back open, Oliver couldn't believe it.

'"Ah! What an _accent_!"' they mimicked in unison, '"Have you ever _seen_ such a body!?"'

With a strangled sort of cough, Oliver felt his face temperature rise ten degrees at least.

'"Give me Wood in a kilt _any day_!"'

'"Gryffindor Captains are _always_ the best looking!"'

With one last bat of their eyelashes, the twins cracked identical grins before bursting into laughter at the look on his face: it was almost indescribable. A mix of embarrassment, pride, ego, amusement and… fear?

'Well now, you haven't been telling our dear Captain what I've been saying about him, have you?' asked an amused female voice from behind them, and they both spun in their armchairs to see Katie standing behind them, grinning.

'Well, as a matter of fact Katie-love, we _have,_' George countered, making her splutter indignantly.

'I was only joking! You… I… Oliver, you know I'd never say things like that about _you_!' she appealed to him, making him withdraw, a little hurt.

'Oh. Well, if _Diggory _is more your type, then by all means, chase the prett- I mean, guy,' he replied, putting his hands up in the air in a sort of surrender.

'Diggory? Oh, Oliver, I didn't mean it like _that_,' she sighed, walking over to the lounge chair he was slumped in and sitting on the arm of it.

'I don't care how you meant it,' he said with a casual shrug, 'It's your love life, not mine.'

'Oh, Oliver, stop it,' she sighed, reaching and placing a hand on his shoulder, 'don't be like this.'

'Be like what?' he said in an aloof tone that was obviously faked.

'A sulky teenage girl, that's what,' she snapped, firing up.

'Well, if that's how you feel, I think I might just leave,' he said, getting to his feet and stalking up the stairs to his dormitory.

'Oliver!' she cried, sighing as his footsteps could be heard as he trumped up the stone steps irritably.

'Piss off!'

Scowling, Katie got up and marched over to the foot of the stairs.

'Oliver you bloody idiot, come back down here!' she yelled, her dark hair flying around her face as she screamed up the staircase at him.

'NO!' he bellowed in return.

'Fine then! I _won't_ ask you to Hogsmeade this weekend!' she screamed, turning on her heel and huffing over to her own staircase.

There was a surprised cough and then silence.

'Am I still allowed to say yes?' asked a timid Scottish voice after a few seconds.

'As long as you never assume that I'm in love with that idiot pretty boy, ever again,' answered a quieter English one.

'Promise.'

'See you Saturday at ten.'

There was another pause in the Gryffindor tower, as everyone seemed afraid to breathe in case this unusual scenario would crumble.

'Ah, young love,' commented Fred with a snigger, breaking the quiet and allowing the common room to erupt in catcalls and whistles.

'Out with the sexually frustrated four-in-the-morning-practices and in with the weekend sleep-ins!' agreed George excitably, as they both nodded in self-satisfaction.

After they'd sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, Fred grinned.

'It's amazing what Percy can actually achieve when he's not awake and annoying the bloody hell out of somebody.'

* * *

_hey all,_

_thanks for the reviews on the last chapter, i appreciate them alot. -smiles-  
and yeah, contrary to evidence presented in the last chapter i'm okay, just lots happening._

_anyhow, hopefully this one was less.. sad.  
Ash x_


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